


Never Meant to Know

by ufolane



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Frisk Doesn't Remember Resets, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Nonbinary Frisk (Undertale), Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route - "I want to stay with you.", and i wrote this all in one day and the fight scene at like 1am, and they don't really remember much of their nightmares, aside from vague feelings and blurry pictures, but they only know about the timelines from nightmares, frisk and sans KINDA remember resets, frisk doing stupid kid things that i always wanted to do as a kid, frisk prefers to talk in ASL but will also speak when they can't sign, so they both are vaguely aware of past timelines and what happened in them, toriel basically adopted the skelebros in this, violence is v minor and vague bc im bad at writing fight scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27029359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ufolane/pseuds/ufolane
Summary: There are certain things that bother Frisk, but they don't remember why.
Relationships: Frisk & Papyrus (Undertale), Frisk & Sans (Undertale), Frisk & Toriel (Undertale), No Romantic Relationship(s), Papyrus & Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Never Meant to Know

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song of the same name by tallyhall.  
> This was mostly just meant to be seen by a small group of friends of mine who like my writing ideas, and this is the first time I've written something that's not headcanons in bullet points or papers for school... I haven't written actual fanfiction like this in YEARS. So the writing probably isn't that great, it's mostly just inner dialogue and convos are clunky and fight scenes are awful but whatever. I still hope you enjoy it!

Frisk awakes with a start. Their body is covered in sweat, they’re shaking, and they feel like they’ve run a marathon. The small human glances at the alarm clock on their bedside table. 6:30AM. A pleasant surprise, usually when they have bad dreams they find themselves jolting out of sleep in the middle of the night. Their mouth doesn’t feel dry either, so they probably weren’t talking or crying in their sleep. Perhaps this dream wasn’t as bad as their usual nightmares. Sitting up and hugging their knees, they try to remember what their dream was about. Nothing, not even any lingering emotions or blurry images. This memory must have happened many timelines ago, then. Usually, after a particularly bad nightmare, Frisk would ground themselves by stating the events that happened in their current timeline. This dream may not have been bad enough to cause them to wake up at 3AM crying, but it is still a good habit to get into doing every morning they woke up.

 _“I am Frisk Dreemur. I freed the monsters from Mount Ebott almost six months ago. I haven’t hurt anyone. I am living on the surface with Toriel and my brothers, Sans and Papyrus. Undyne and Alphys live across the street and Asgore lives a few houses down from us. I am eight years old. I was the ambassador for monsters, but Asgore took the position because I’m too young for such an important diplomatic role. I am safe. I am loved.”_ As they retell this story to themselves for what feels like the thousandth time, Frisk evens out their breathing and their body begins to relax. They were ready for a new day.

Enough wallowing in bed, there is a day that needed to be seized! Kicking off their bedsheets in one decisive action (if the sheets remained covering them, they might have second thoughts about getting out of bed), they swing their legs over the side of their twin bed. Still clad in striped pajamas, Frisk, shuffles out of their bedroom and down the stairs, where the smell of pancakes is wafting from. They can see the TV playing in the living room, but it seems to be on for mostly background noise as the booming voice of Papyrus and the softer voice of Toriel carry across the house. Frisk peeks their head into the kitchen and sees their mother and brother working together to make pancakes, with Papyrus making the batter and Toriel cooking them in a pan with fire magic burning beneath it. As “helpful” as Undyne’s cooking lessons have been, Papyrus’s culinary skills have improved tenfold with Toriel’s guidance. Seeing movement from the kitchen entrance, the skeleton looks up from his passionate stirring of pancake batter to spot his smaller human sibling.

“FRISK! YOU ARE UP EARLY! LADY TORIEL AND I HAVE ONLY JUST FINISHED OUR FIRST BATCH OF PANCAKES!” Papyrus sets down the bowl and reaches over to the cooling rack next to Toriel and picks up a tiny pancake. “YOU CAN TRY ONE OF OUR TEST PANCAKES AND TELL US WHAT YOU THINK!”

As the skeleton hands Frisk the tiny, still warm, palm-sized pancake, Toriel spares Frisk a quick glance before turning back to the pancakes, taking care not to burn them. “Good morning, my child. Did you sleep well?”

Frisk nods, mouth full of chocolate-chip pancake, before realizing Toriel couldn’t see their affirmation. They make a “mm-hm” sound as they stuff the last of the test pancake in their mouth, signing a <very good!> to Papyrus, who lets out a victorious “NYEH HEH HEH!” Frisk sits down at the dining room table, listening to Papyrus excitedly tell them about his morning as Toriel prepares a plate for her child.

“Do you have any plans for today, my child? It is Saturday, so you need to finish your homework, but after that you may do as you wish.” Ah, Saturday. Why Toriel insists they do their homework at the very start of their weekend is a mystery to Frisk. She says the reason is “so that it will be out of the way sooner and they won’t spend all weekend worrying about it and putting it off until Sunday night,” but it’s still a pain. Oh well, they got most of their work done in class on Friday, so it shouldn’t take long to get the rest of their work done. Frisk thinks for a moment, taking another bite of gooey chocolate chip pancakes that made their insides feel warm. Suddenly, an idea enters their mind and they clap their hands to get the attention of Papyrus and Toriel, the latter having turned back to help the skeleton clean up the kitchen. They both look at Frisk expectantly.

<How about the park?> they sign.

* * *

Since the barrier’s destruction, the residents of the underground have been slowly making their way out to the surface. Everyone wanted to leave, but nobody considered that a race trapped underground for centuries might develop a case of agoraphobia by the time the barrier was shattered and monsters were freed. Because of this, monsterkind chose to stick close to Mount Ebott, and built a city right outside the entrance to the underground, so monsters could come and go from the mountain as they pleased.

The park is in the center of Ebott Town, the capital city of monsters. It’s a moderately sized area, with a small field of open grass for sports, a standard human playground with woodchip flooring, and plenty of benches and picnic tables. Papyrus, Frisk, and Sans make their way over to the entrance of the park, with Frisk holding the hand of each skeleton and swinging their arms around. Toriel couldn’t take Frisk, as she had assignments to grade, but the skeleton brothers were plenty-happy to take the kid instead.

“welp, we’re here. now what?” Sans looks at Frisk, assuming there is something specific that the human wants to do here. Frisk, still swinging their brothers’ arms, looks up at the shorter skeleton and shrugs. Letting go of the skeletons’ hands, Frisk makes a beeline for the swings located next to the playground. Sans meanders over to a bench located adjacent to the swing set, and plops onto it with a grunt. Papyrus follows Frisk, standing before the swing located next to his sibling, and looks at the human.

“DO YOU WANT ME TO PUSH YOU?” Frisk nods enthusiastically.

Papyrus smiles, making his way behind his younger sibling before gently pushing them forward. He learned the hard way that starting off pushing with all one’s might would just shove them off the swing. That was the first time the trio had visited this park, and they were accompanied by Undyne, who volunteered to push Papyrus when he was relaxing on the swing set. Frisk was grateful that he hadn’t gotten hurt. The skeleton had a fairly large amount of HP, but seeing him land face-first into the wood chips below had still been shocking.

Frisk giggles as they start to go higher, Papyrus taking a step back to keep from being hit with the full-force of a human child flying backwards into him. Another thing he learned the hard way when the monsters were learning how to use the swings for the first time.

“Higher! Higher!” they giggle, squealing as the skeleton obliges and sends them further upwards. “Higher, Pap!”

“ARE YOU SURE THAT WOULD BE SAFE? I DO NOT WANT YOU TO FLY OFF AND HURT YOURSELF!” Hesitancy laces Papyrus’s voice as he continues to push them at a stagnant force.

“Yeah!” Frisk calls from their seat. They love the sensation of their stomach dropping every time they swing upwards, almost _too far,_ but never quite reaching the brink of no return. They want to try and make it over the bar, and loop around full-circle.

“i’m not sure that’s such a good idea, bro.” Sans calls from his seat a few feet away. They no longer feel Papyrus pushing them, as he steps to the side and looks at his brother.

“I HAVE TO AGREE WITH SANS. I’M SORRY, FRISK, BUT SURELY SWINGING AT THIS MOMENTUM IS JUST AS FUN?”

Oh well, he had given them enough driving force, they can probably complete their mission from here on their own. They rock back and fourth in their seat, grinning every time they reach a little higher. At last, Frisk feels their hair fall away as they go upside down, but not all the way over the edge. One more should do it…

“kid, hold on. you’re gonna—“

“FRISK, DON’T—!!”

_Too late._ They make it to the point of no return, finally going past the bar and swinging around. They did it! They… They’re _still_ doing it, they realize with horror as the swing keeps going, and it loops around the bar a second, then third time. Oh god, now what? They’re pretty sure their brothers are yelling, but Frisk can’t hear them between the blood pounding through their head and the wind roaring in their ears. The swing loops a fourth time around the bar, and they’re forced to make a choice. Continue gripping the chains for dear life, and hope they’ll lose momentum before they run out of chain, or let go, and hope the wood chips won’t hurt as much as they appear to?

Frisk lets go.

They’re soaring, up, up into the air, wind whipping at their face. It’s an incredible feeling, being up so high in the air, but it only lasts for a moment before they feel gravity digging its claws back into them to yank them back to earth.

But it doesn’t. Well, it does, but it yanks them back very, very, slowly. They don’t even get the chance to wonder why gravity is being so delicate with them when Frisk feels a wave of dread wash over them. They feel like they’ve done something very, _very wrong_ , and they’re going to be punished for it. They’re going to be slammed into the ground with the force of being hit by a truck, and they _deserve it, after what they did to everyone._ But what did they do? Why do they feel this way? A tightness forms in their chest, and Frisk looks at the source to see their SOUL, now manifested inches from their sternum, a dark blue glow replacing its usual crimson coloring. It’s _him._ He’s going to punish them for what they did, after they hurt so many people, he’s going to kill them again and again and again and again and again and—

They don’t register that they’re on the ground, now, sitting on wood chips with Sans and Papyrus fussing over them. Frisk thinks they hear words, but it sounds like their head is underwater. Maybe they are, is that why they can’t breathe? Skeletal arms wrap around them, and the voices get louder as someone grips their shoulders tightly. The lack of gloves tell them Sans is the one holding them by the shoulders, staring them down. He seems to nod as they look at his face, and the voices sound more clear now. Papyrus’s face is right next to his brother’s, and they both look terrified. Sans’s permanent grin looks more like a grimace as his brow ridges pinch in an expression of concern. They can understand what the voices are saying now.

“—ear me? you gotta take slower breathes, ok? you’re gonna pass out with how fast you’re breathing. in an’ out, deep br—yeah, like that. good job kid, you’re doing good.” Sans’s low voice sounds strained, like he’s trying to stay calm because Frisk and Papyrus need him to be, but he’s just barely holding it together. Both skeletons visibly relax when recognition flashes in Frisk’s eyes. “there you are, kiddo. feeling better?”

Frisk only just realizes that they’re shaking like a leaf. How long were they like that? Their hands are too shakey to sign, and their throat still feels too tight to make a sound, so they swallow and nod. They don’t know if they are telling the truth or not.

“YOU REALLY SCARED US THERE, FRISK! WE THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO TURN INTO A FRISK-SIZED PANCAKE! YOU’RE LUCKY THAT THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS SUCH QUICK REFLEXES, AND THAT I WAS ABLE TO CATCH YOU WITH MY BLUE MAGIC AND LOWER YOU SAFELY TO THE GROUND! HOWEVER, IT SEEMS AS THOUGH THE SHOCK OF THE WHOLE ACCIDENT CAUSED YOU TO HAVE A PANIC ATTACK! HOW ARE YOU FEELING NOW THAT MY BROTHER AND I HAVE SOOTHED YOUR FEARS?”

<Better, thank you for catching me and calming me down.> Frisk’s hands are still shaking, but they’re able to sign to the two skeletons. The brothers are still visibly shaken (rattled, one might say, if they were feeling better), with beads of sweat dripping down their skulls. Frisk looks to Papyrus and opens their arms up to him, making grabby hands. They feel like they’ve run a marathon and then got beaten up at the finish line, their whole body is sore and exhausted. Papyrus wastes no time in scooping up the small human and cradling them to his chest. It’s much easier when he’s not wearing his battle body, which he discarded not long after moving to the surface. Apparently humans found a skeleton walking around in a suit of armor (even fake armor) to be intimidating, and since there was no more royal guard Papyrus chose to retire the suit, but still kept the red-orange boots, gloves, and scarf. Frisk rests their head on Papyrus’s shoulder and sighs through their nose, their whole body relaxing in their brother’s comforting embrace. Papyrus gives the best hugs.

* * *

Frisk feels like going to sleep, but it’s only 1PM (they had only been out of the house for an hour). They elect to lay on the couch and watch TV instead, with Sans joining them and Papyrus going to his room. Frisk had gotten him a new video game called “Professor Layton and the Curious Village,” a game all about puzzle-solving, about a week ago, and Papyrus was absolutely enamored with the game since then. He probably already completed it and is replaying it just for the puzzles. Frisk changes the channel to a nature documentary about the deep ocean. Frisk and Sans lay on the couch for the next couple minutes, listening to the narrator drone on about how bio-luminescence works when Sans finally breaks the silence between them.

“was it really the swing that made you so upset? or was it…” Sans lets his sentence trail off. He doesn’t need to finish it, Frisk already knows what he meant. They curl up into themselves, hugging their knees to their chest. He looks at them for a minute, studying them.

“don’t worry about it, kiddo. the only thing wrong that you did was thinking it was a good idea to try and swing over the top of that bar,” he lets out a faint laugh, “not to be stern-um with you, but you better not try something like that again.”

Frisk still doesn’t respond, but most of the tension leaves their body. They don’t know why they reacted to Papyrus’s blue magic the way they did, they don’t remember reacting like that when they fought Papyrus in Snowdin, why was this so different? _Because you didn’t know it was Papyrus and not Sans._ Frisk shakes their head of the idea. They have no reason to fear Sans. They never even fought him! Of all the monsters they’ve encountered in the underground, he was the only one who had never hurt them, not even indirectly like Alphys had done in Hotland. They have no reason to fear Sans.

Right?

* * *

_They’re in the golden hallway. Their sweater is covered in dust. A knife is gripped in their hand, and a familiar locket is around their neck._ Their _locket. Chara’s locket. Frisk’s locket. At the end of the hallway is Sans. He looks bored. Tired. Angry. Frisk wonders a lot of things. Why Sans looks the way he does, he never looks at them like that. Why their sweater is covered in dust. Why they’re brandishing the knife they found in Asgore’s home. They never use their weapon! They don’t remember this scene playing out like this. It_ didn’t _play out like this._

_Frisk tries to talk to Sans, but they can’t move their hands. They can’t move their mouth. They can’t move their body. Then their body is moving towards Sans of its own volition. Why can’t they control their body? Maybe Sans will help, maybe he’ll see something in their eyes and know something’s wrong with Frisk._

_“let’s just get to the point.”_

_Bones. Bones everywhere. Strange skulls that fire lasers. One eye glowing cyan and yellow, the other dead and empty. Pain. So much pain. They can’t do anything about it, they are a passenger in their own body. They’re coughing—no—vomiting up blood, their body shaking with every dodge they make. Once Sans’s turn is over, Frisk wants to cry. They_ would _cry if they could use their body. They want to scream, too, when their body launches itself at Sans, knife swiping at him. To Frisk’s relief, he dodges effortlessly. It’s easier to dodge after that first attack. Can’t keep dodging forever. Sans spares Frisk and they want to cry, want to accept his mercy, want to hug him and ask him why he’s hurting them. Their body doesn’t do that. It uses this opportunity to heal itself as Sans waits patiently with open arms. Then it attacks. Sans dodges. The battle continues, but Frisk's body can’t keep dodging forever. Their soul glows dark blue as they slam into the walls, ceiling, and floor, their body doing its best to avoid the bones covering the surfaces. The crunching of their own bones echoes through the hall. **Snap. Crack. Crunch.** Their dodging isn’t enough. Blood smears cover the golden room. A stray bone impales them through the stomach and their soul shatters._

A strangled sob escapes Frisk’s lips as they jerk awake, their limbs flailing for a moment and one of their knees connecting with the wall their bed is pressed up against. Not even paying attention to the pain, Frisk slaps their hands over their mouth to keep their cries quiet. They use their legs to try and kick the sheets wrapped around their shaking body, chest heaving with the effort of containing their sobs. Toriel and Sans are light sleepers, and Papyrus is often awake at odd hours of the night, so they must be extra careful not to let anybody hear their cries of distress. Hands still covering their mouth as they sob silently, Frisk draws their knees up to their heaving chest. They can’t remember much of the nightmare, but the impression is leaves on them is plenty enough. They felt the sins of crimes they never committed crawling down their back. They shouldn’t think about this right now, it’ll only make them worse.

_“I am Frisk Dreemur. I freed the monsters from Mount Ebott almost six months ago. I haven’t hurt anyone. I am living on the surface with Toriel and my brothers, Papyrus and—”_

An anguished cry interrupts their thoughts, bubbling from their throat and past their paling fingers. They curl further into themselves, as if making themselves smaller will make their cries quieter. A whine leaks out of them as they lean against the wall in the fetal position, trying to take deep gulps of air through their fingers. The sound of their bedroom door creaking open makes their breathing hitch as they stare up at the door slowly opening.

* * *

Sans jerks awake when a loud _THUMP_ comes from the other side of his room. He sits up, looking at the wall. Several minutes pass, and he’s just about to lay back down when a guttural wail echoes from the wall dividing his room and Frisk’s. Dread forms in the pit of his nonexistent stomach. A glance at his alarm clock tells him it’s 1AM. Maybe Frisk fell out of bed? He should make sure they’re not hurt, just in case. Sans groans as he pushes himself off his bed (Toriel and Papyrus insisted he sleep on an _actual_ bed, saying it would make the mattress last longer with a bed frame, something something good for his bones or whatever). Creeping out of his room in a t-shirt and basketball shorts, he makes his way over to his little sibling’s bedroom door. It’s as he leaves his own room that he hears a soft whine carry from Frisk’s room, and Sans hurries over to their door. He slowly creaks it open to find Frisk sitting curled up in the far corner of their bed, up against the wall they share with Sans. They look at him with bloodshot eyes the size of saucers and a snotty tear-stained face, hands covering their mouth in a poor attempt to muffle their crying. Sans feels a twinge of empathy for the kid, he knows how bad nightmares can be. His features soften at the sight before him.

“hey squirt, bad dream?”

They nod slowly.

“you uh…” Crap, he wasn’t really good at this mushy emotional stuff. Comforting people is his brother’s forte, not his. “you mind if i come in?”

Frisk shakes their head, and he slinks into their dark bedroom and plops onto their bed, sitting on the edge a respectful distance away from them. He notices them curl further into themselves when he sits. Now he already has a good idea about what their nightmare was.

“you remember anything about the dream?” That was a good start. Even if they do remember… What they did… They’ll have deniability, so they will feel less forced to talk about it if they don’t want to. Frisk pulls their hands away from their face as their breathing evens out. Have they been holding their breath this whole time? The child wraps their arms around their legs and nods slowly, to Sans’s surprise.

“Not… Not a whole lot. Just feelings, mostly,” Frisk rasps, voice scratchy from a combination of disuse and crying.

“feelings? what kind of feelings?” Sans feels guilty for pressing the kid, but he has to know. He has to know how much they remember about the timelines, and this could be his chance.

“I felt… scared. Really scared. I couldn’t… Couldn’t control m-m-my bo-ody…” The kid is shaking, and their voice betrays their attempt to keep from sobbing again, “I was in s-s-so-o much p-p-ai-in… It hurt s-s-so much! But-b-b-ut—I felt like—like I _deserved_ it, like I-I-I did some-something horrible! I don’t know what I did…” Frisk looks up at him with watery eyes, a frantic look that makes a shiver go down his spine, “…but it was really, _really_ bad. A-a-and I—"

Shit, he’s gotta snap them out of this. Sans grabs Frisk by their shoulders, squeezing their arms slightly and looking them directly in the eyes, his voice low and serious. “hey. What do you call a fish with no eyes?”

It works. Frisk snaps out of their trance and looks at him incredulously. _“Huh?”_

“what do you call a fish with no eyes?”

“…What.”

“a _fsh._ ”

Frisk stares at him for a moment, dumbfounded that he just derailed their oncoming breakdown with a _horrible, horrible joke._ A small grin makes its way to their face.

“That was terrible. I’m gonna tell Undyne that joke when I see her tomorrow.”

Sans lets out a hearty laugh before he gets up from the bed with a grunt, “hey, wait here, i’m gonna get something for those nightmares of yours, alright?”

He hears Frisk sucking all the snot back into their skull from crying as he leaves the room and heads into the kitchen. Humans can be so gross sometimes. Opening a cupboard and reaching inside, the skeleton pulls out a bag of chocolate bites. He takes a couple in his hand and heads back to Frisk’s room.

“chocolate. it’s supposed to give you good dreams if you eat some before bed,” he says, handing them a piece and popping the second one into his own mouth. “mom might not approve of me giving you sugar at 1am, though, so let’s just keep this between us, huh?” he says with a wink.

Frisk giggles as they stuff the chocolate in their mouth, signing a <thank you> as they pull their sheets back from the end of their bed. He helps the kid fix their bed, and once the blankets are covering his sibling, he sits back down on the edge of the bed to look at Frisk.

“hey. you know you didn’t do anything wrong, right? you don’t deserve to suffer, and i would never hurt you. that’s a promise.”

A hopeful look spreads across Frisk’s face, and they open their arms and make grabby hands. He isn’t as showy with affection as his brother is, but he loves this kid just as much, and happily obliges. Sans scoots over to the human and wraps them up in a big bony bear-hug, pressing his teeth to the top of Frisk’s head in a skeletal kiss.

“Love you, Sans,” a soft murmur can be heard from the face pressed into his shirt.

“love you too, frisk,” he rumbles, teeth still pressed against their head.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I'm sick and tired of seeing the fandom blame a couple of children for committing genocide and whatnot, so I thought it'd be neat to do something different, where Frisk can't control their body in the geno run and the RESETS are out of their control (it's the player doing all of these things, NOT Chara), and they have nightmares and triggers from different timelines but they don't remember why these things upset them. I'm honestly surprised I haven't seen any other fics do this before.  
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!! <3


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